


Friendship Bracelets

by cCyrus123



Category: Original Work
Genre: Childhood Friends, F/F, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:22:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28169196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cCyrus123/pseuds/cCyrus123
Summary: A little something I wrote for class. Set loosely in the medieval time period. Hope you guys enjoy :]
Relationships: Elizabeth Freyhardt/Sarah, Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Friendship Bracelets

_ Inhale. _ Sarah tightened her grip on the bowstring.  _ Exhale. _ The arrow whistled through the air and collided with the target with a dull  _ thump _ .

Sarah’s shoulders slumped, free from the momentary weight of the world. She had actually done it. She had shot ten bullseyes in a row and had shot ten more to perfectly split those arrows. And now, it was time to repeat the feat again, and again, and over again, until the sun fell beyond the horizon, and the moon rose with the stars. Lost deep within her melancholy thoughts, Sarah missed her best friend cheering like a rabid dog from the sidelines of the shooting range.

Jasper whooped, “Nice! And that makes what, two hundred bullseyes? Bro, you’re totally gonna win. Let’s call it a day so you can get some rest for tomorrow, yeah?”

His pleas fell to deaf ears as Sarah, stalking over to the now porous hay targets, began yanking the arrows out. With an unfortunate  _ oomph,  _ Jasper toppled over the fence bisecting the range grounds and with the eager resilience of a puppy, clambered towards Sarah.

“Sarah! Hey Saraaaah. C’mon I bet you could use some drinks at John’s to warm you up. It’s pretty chilly, come to think of it,” Jasper encouraged, pulling his surcoat closer around his burly body.

But no number of perfect bullseyes would satisfy Sarah, not until she had shot  _ the  _ bullseye that would free…

“…would Elizabeth think of this? You know as well as I do that she would be kicking your arse for being so damned stubborn,” Jasper bemoaned.

Sarah blinked, “Wha--Elizabeth?”

“Of  _ course _ saying her name finally gets your head out of your arse. I swear you are so in love with her it’s sickening,” whined Jasper, while pretending to puke.

“L-love? What in the world--Jas you know we’re just friends! Us three, forever best friends; ring a bell?” Sarah spluttered.

“Whatever you say, Sarah,” Jas rolled his eyes, “I’m just saying, you don’t see me firing hundreds of arrows day in and day out while starving myself.”

Jasper looked pointedly down at Sarah’s stomach, which let out a pitiful answering rumble. It had indeed been a whole day since Sarah had eaten anything, something Elizabeth would never have condoned had she been there.

Who is Elizabeth, you ask? Well, she was many things to many different people. She was the centerpiece of the trio that was Sarah, Elizabeth, and Jasper. She was Jasper’s level-headed confidant since childhood, she was Jane’s beloved, one-and-only daughter. She was John’s quiet bar buddy, she was the bane of her father’s existence. And last but not least, she was everything to Sarah (as much as the latter tried to deny it). Oh, and she was also the sole heir to King Stefan, who had been forced to claim his bastard daughter once it was discovered that he was no longer fit to produce a child (his testicles fell off).

At Jasper’s words, Sarah had wilted. Despite her trained athleticism given her profession as a hunter, going an entire day without eating had taken its toll on her relatively small stature. Yet she really believed that she had to shoot another quiver-full if she wanted to succeed tomorrow, so she shook her head at Jasper and wordlessly finished tugging the final arrow out.

With a swoop, Jasper snatched the arrows out of her hand.

“Ha-ha! You miss, are going to go home, grab some food, and head to bed,” Jasper sing-songed, easily dodging Sarah’s efforts to take back the arrows given his superior height. 

“Ah-ah-ah, don’t even think about it. Liz would kill me if I let you mess up the one chance at getting her back because you thought it was a good idea to stay up all night before the competition.”

“Legally,” Sarah muttered darkly.

“What was that?”

Cracking her knuckles, she replied, “Chance at legally getting her back. If I were to lose tomorrow, that just means we’ll have to resort to some more… unsavory means to rescue her.”

“Woah there, lover-girl. Let’s focus on getting tomorrow right before we start thinking treason, yeah?”

“Again with the lover stuff, Jas?! Quit it!” Sarah whined.

“Only if you promise to eat  _ something _ ,” Jas demanded, “And. Go. To. Bed.”

* * *

The next day dawned with the brassy trumpeting from the kingdom’s highest towers. The day that decided who would win Princess Elizabeth’s hand had finally arrived and the subjects were buzzing with excitement and nervousness alike. Regrettably, Sarah was not immune to this feeling and was barely able to swallow and hold down her breakfast. Wincing, she clutched her upset stomach with one hand and carefully lifted her cup to her mouth with trembling fingers. It would not do to spill tea on the one clean outfit she owned; lord knew that  _ Stefan  _ would frown upon contestants donning bloodstained hunting uniforms. But alas, lady luck was not on her side. A big palm clapped her back, causing steaming hot tea to spill over her muted green tunic.

“Fffffffff-- Jasper!” Sarah bellowed.

Wincing Jas entered her narrowed line of sight and quickly handed her a towel--John’s quiet courtesy--and yelped, “Sorry about that Sarah. Well, look on the bright side! Nothing like a morning burn to get you properly awake for today right?”

“I’m sure that was your intention,” Sarah hissed. “But where will I find a replacement for my tunic in time? No royal guard will let me enter the castle grounds if I stroll up looking like this!”

Looking down at Sarah’s aggressive pointing, Jas had to agree that was a rather large and unsightly stain. But let it be known that Jas never did something that he couldn’t make up for! 

“You know as well as I do that  _ Jane _ ,” Jas mustered the audacity to  _ wink _ , “has perfectly fine tunics that she would happily lend you if you would only visit her.”

“Did you plan this?” Sarah seethed between her gritted teeth.

“Me, worms for brains? Never. Go on, Sarah. I’ll be waiting for you at the castle entrance with the arrows,” Jas smirked.

Sarah sent Jas a scathing glare, but with no better options, stomped to Jane’s Tailors across the street.

“Hello? Ms. Freyhardt?” Sarah asked, carefully peering through the doorway. 

The reply was instant: 

“Is that you Sarah? After all this time, dear Sarah finally saw fit to visit this poor old lady?” gasped Jane Freyhardt.

Sarah cringed, Jane was as melodramatic as usual, “I’m sorry for not visiting more often, Ms. Freyhardt. I’ve just been… busy lately.”

“Busy doing what? Without my Lizzy around, I’m sure you’ve had much more time on your hands. Heaven knows Jas has been loitering around the shop more often,” Jane replied, raising one perfectly trimmed eyebrow.

“Oh you know, hunting…?”

“Hmm, is that so?” Jane faux-gasped, “Sarah, have you been selling your furs to my rival? Because you certainly haven’t sold me any furs since”, Jane tapped her chin, “Lizzy was taken away.”

Sarah scrambled to change the subject.

“I’m so sorry Ms. Freyhardt--”

“Jane,” Jane firmly corrected.

“--Jane, but I really am in a hurry right now. I promise to come by with the furs soon and to visit more often but for now, could you please please lend me a nice, clean tunic?” pleaded Sarah.

Glancing at Sarah’s soiled shirt, Jane finally took pity, “Oh alright young lady, but don’t think you’re getting off the hook that easily. I can lend you one of Lizzy’s tunics--”

“Oh thank you thank you! I’ll have it back early tomorrow!” Sarah rejoiced.

“Not so fast. Only if you tell me why you need one!”

Sarah flinched and guiltily looked away. She couldn’t risk revealing the plan, so close to the competition. She and Jas had agreed early on that the fewer people knew, the better. Even Jane, god bless her soul, was a liability that they could not afford due to the royal guard’s close monitoring of her situation on  _ Stefan’s _ behalf.

Met with silence, Jane sighed.

“Sarah… it wouldn’t happen to be related to the archery tournament happening today, would it?”

More silence and fidgeting. Sarah anxiously toyed with the frayed bracelet adorning her left wrist.

“You three were always stubborn peas in a pod,” Jane chuckled, fondly shaking her head.

“Here,” she placed the tunic in Sarah’s squirming hands, “and tighten that bracelet before it falls off. Lizzy would be distraught if you lost it while… hunting.”

“Thank you, Jane,” Sarah swallowed thickly.

“Anytime dear. If anything, I should be the one thanking you,” Jane sighed, “Good luck out there today Sarah. And give those animals hell for me, would you dear?”

* * *

Time was running out for me to think of a plan to escape this wretched castle. Man after boring man had shot and missed their allotted three arrows. While watching the few who had to be dragged off the fields after demanding to try again gave me some amusement, it only reinforced the might of the guardsmen. They would doubtlessly and easily recapture me if I tried to make a break for it, especially when I was beleaguered by this ugly, inordinately heavy dress.  _ Mother would collapse in shock if she saw me in this complete waste of rich fabric _ , I humorlessly thought. So the competition continued, each arrow cementing its place in my sinking heart.

I tried to distract myself from my looming fate by toying with the bracelet wrapped around my right wrist. Jasper, the big lug, had lost his years ago while swimming in the forest lake, but Sarah and I had managed to keep it for the last decade.

“ _ I know the adults give each other rings, _ ” Sarah had whispered, “ _ But I think bracelets are way prettier. Plus it’s bigger so we can add charms to make it sparkle. _ ”

I remembered giggling quietly, careful not to wake Jas snoring in the background, “ _ Okay, then you have to promise to never take it off or lose it. This is our proof that the three of us are best friends forever and that we’ll love each other forever! _ ”

Sarah raised her sticky hand between our chests,  _ "Pinky promise? _ ”

“ _ Pinky promise. _ ”

The memory warmed me and gave me the strength to hold on to my fading resolve. No matter what happened, I was not going to go down without a fight. I was never going to become the demure wife my father and my foreseeable husband desired.

Looking up, I saw that after hours of useless posturing and peacocking, it was finally time for the last suitor to try his hand at winning my father’s heart. The announcer, a page of my father, was pink from standing under the summer sun for so long. If it were not my future he was declaring with each shriek, I would have been laughing at his visible relief at the approaching end.

Father’s sweating page screamed, “Announcing Sir Cyrus of Hemington!”

Even though I knew I had to be cautious under my father’s watchful eye, I could not help the sudden jerk my body instinctively gave upon hearing that name.

_ What? Cyrus? Could it be? No… But what are the chances of someone being named that, here and now? _

I straightened in my uncomfortable bejeweled throne and cast my gaze on the cloaked figure, more invested in this competitor than any of the others. I knew that it was most likely a cruel coincidence but,  _ Cyrus. Cyrus, Eliza, and Jules, our fantastical names from our childhood play pretending to be knights _ .

Down below, Sir Cyrus, or so they claimed to be, assumed their position in front of the first target. The crowd, having watched failed shot after failed shot at this point, looked on disinterestedly. Yet my sharp gaze was trained discerningly at the archer’s bow arm--and wrist.

Nocking an arrow on their modest wooden longbow, Sir Cyrus raised and fired their first shot. 

_ Thwap _ . Gasps rang out through the arena.

“A-a bullseye!” the page shrieked.

Sir Cyrus wasted no time in firing their second, and third, shots. I knew that posture. I knew that fluid movement.

“Bullseye! And another bullseye!” the page screeched.

The crowd of subjects was now cheering wildly, chanting, “ _ Cyrus! Cyrus! _ ”

And most importantly I knew that bracelet decorating Sir Cyrus’s left wrist, glittering under the midday sun. Slowly, I raised my gaze to meet Cyrus’s eyes and released a breath at the bright green eyes looking warmly back at me.

At the small sound, father glanced at me with his milky but somehow simultaneously beady eyes and threatened, “You  _ will  _ be marrying the victor Elizabeth.”

I only smirked, enjoying how it clearly unsettled Stefan.

“Oh father, do not worry,” without looking away from Sarah’s twinkling eyes, I promised, “I plan to marry that man.”

**Author's Note:**

> My first public work of fiction! Thought it was high time to give back to the f/f community that helped me gradually accept myself. I know probably next to no one will read this but if anyone somehow stumbles upon this fic, I hope it'll make you smile even just a little :]


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